


One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Home

by Jinx72



Category: Wreck-It Ralph (Movies)
Genre: "nice" landers my ass, For 30 Years, Gen, Like, Nicelanders and Felix are just... mentioned really, Vanellope gets a bit mouthy, and i feel Vanellope would be too, i am angery, i just have a lot of feelings, so lmao here you go, tags who's she never heard of her, the nicelanders made Ralph sleep/live IN THE LITERAL LEGITIMATE GARBAGE, two swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx72/pseuds/Jinx72
Summary: Vanellope demands to see Ralph's sweet penthouse. Ralph isn't too keen to actually reveal where he lives.Let's just say Vanellope isn't impressed by it.[In the period of time after Sugar Rush is saved, and before the endgame (ha) where Ralph builds himself a house]a.k.a. me projecting my anger about Ralph being made to live in the ACTUAL GARBAGE for THIRTY DIDDLY DARN YEARS





	One Man's Trash Is Another Man's Home

“C’mon, big guy!” Vanellope’s raspy voice echoed in the tunnel. “You saw my dump of a home, I wanna see yours too! You said you moved into a _penthouse!”_  
As the train pulled into the station, the tiny girl tugged her massive friend out of the train car that he really didn’t fit. “W-well, about that, kid,” Ralph started, stumbling over the lip of the car as Vanellope pulled him along excitedly. “I, uh, don’t live in a penthouse.”  
Vanellope stopped, and stared at him disbelievingly. “But you said-”  
“Yeah, I _won_ the penthouse,” Ralph interrupted, folding his arms across his broad chest, and he refused to explain how because he could never explain _how_ to Vanellope, could never bring himself to explain _how._ It was partly why he didn’t keep it in the first place. “But I didn’t keep it.”  
“B-bu… what? Why?! It’s a _penthouse!”_ Vanellope yelled, gesturing up to the top of the building. “I got a penthouse now and it’s _sweet!”_  
Ralph looked away, up at the building too, and ignored the stab of guilt that lanced his gut. “I wrecked it pretty quick,” he lied. “It was not built for a guy my size, ya know?”  
“Oh, I see,” Vanellope said dryly.  
She glitched away, teleporting ahead of him. “Well, show me your actual house, Ralph!”  
Ralph raced after her. “Kid! Vanellope! Wait a sec, why don’t’ya?”

Vanellope glitched to the top off the dump, groaning at the sky loudly in impatience. “Hurry up!” she shouted. “I’m young and beautiful and haven’t got all day!”  
Ralph rolled his eyes with a thin, tired smile, and climbed the enormous heap of bricks to join her.

Vanellope examined the building with a critical eye. Before Ralph could begin to explain anything, she glitched out of reach again, stopping in front of the doors of the block of condos. “C’mon, Ralph!” she called. “Show me which floor is yours!”  
Ralph hesitated, glancing at his stump beside him to the hyperactive child president waving at him.  
“Kid?” he shouted back, sliding down the pile of bricks to join her. “You’re being kinda loud. Don’t want to wake up the Nicelanders, do ya? And Felix. You know, he’s h-had a long day, and we don’t need to-”  
As Ralph reached the bottom, he had to recoil because all of a sudden Vanellope was in his arms and up in his face. She scrutinised him closely, unnervingly judgemental. “You’re _hiding something!”_ she hissed. “Are you lying again?”  
“No,” Ralph muttered, prying the girl off his arm and dumping her on the ground beside him. “Look, I don’t live in the building, alright?”  
Vanellope frowned at him, frowned in confusion. In a moment, she was gone, darting around the map, trying to find some alternative building. She was back in a second, bamboozlement plain on her face. “So… is there, like… a shed or something?” she asked, looking up at Ralph.  
Ralph stared down for a moment, not wanting to say. Vanellope’s eyes were wide. Her game’s artstyle made her so expressive, it swept him away. But _Fix-It Felix Jnr_ had never been an emotional game. He looked away.  
“Not really.”  
He turned, and started to trudge up the mountain of bricks. Vanellope followed him, hands clasped in front of her. “So-oh-hoh, you’re gonna, like, show me some cool little hidden cave in the middle of this literal dump that has like a real bed and stuff in it, right?” she asked nervously, trying to peer around and up at his face.  
Ralph didn’t look at her.  
They stopped at the top. Vanellope looked around, trying to piece it together.  
Ralph cleared his throat anxiously, and gestured to the tree stump inexplicably at the top of the mound of bricks.  
“Home, sweet home,” he forced out, faux-cheerfully.

This was the first time Ralph had ever seen the kid speechless. Genuinely and utterly. Her mouth dropped open, and she tried to form the words to express it but it only came out as a stunned goldfish impression. Ralph wrung his hands anxiously as the child before him started to shake. “You live in an _actual, literal dump?”_  
The shout caused some lights to on behind lowered blinds. Ralph glanced at the windows and began to frantically shush Vanellope.  
“Kid, you’re waking them up!” he hissed.  
“I don’t care!” Vanellope shouted, kicking a brick and watching it skitter down the side of the gargantuan hill. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been sleeping on _bricks?”  
_ Ralph shrugged. “It’s not as uncomfortable as it looks,” he countered weakly.  
“Have you ever _slept in a bed in your life?”_ Vanellope yelled, jabbing a finger at Ralph.  
Ralph looked away, before shrugging and trying to laugh it off. “What qualifies as a b-”  
“You know what I mean, buster!”  
Blinds were being raised. Nicelanders stuck their heads out of their windows and began to call for quiet. Vanellope snatched up a brick and threw it at the building. It shattered against a bare wall, causing the Nicelanders to go silent.  
“Woah, woah, woah! Kid! Vanellope! No need to turn to vandalism!” Ralph rushed, ripping the next brick out of her hands as Vanellope jumped up and down in anger.  
“No!” Vanellope screamed. “I’m not gonna sit here and let _you_ let _them_ tell you to shut up and go sleep in the bricks again!”  
Murmuring.  
“Do they know? Do they even know?”  
Ralph glanced at the Nicelanders. He gulped nervously at the sight of the mayor glaring directly at him, still threatening even in his nightcap and gown. “Kid, quiet down now,” he begged again. Vanellope’s fury grew at the sight of the massive powerhouse of a man cowering under the mere concept of disapproval from someone who had no right to care in the first place.  
Vanellope turned and _glared_ right back at the mayor, who recoiled immediately.  
“This is like, the oldest game in the arcade!” Vanellope continued. “You turned _thirty_ like, last week! Like, thirty _years!_ They made you live in the _garbage_ for _thirty years?!”_

Silence fell across the map. Ralph winced. “Vanellope,” he said. “Maybe we should g-”  
“Stop deflecting!” Vanellope interrupted, leaping onto higher ground to see eye to eye with the enormous man. “You’re just avoiding my questions! Why are you living like this?”  
Ralph looked down, and tried to keep a handle on his emotions. His temper was rising.  
“How are you letting these jackasses treat you like garbage?” Vanellope shouted, swinging an arm towards the faces in windows. Ralph glanced up to the top floor, to the penthouse, and saw Felix himself looking down with wide eyes.  
“Language, kid,” Ralph chided, dancing around the questions through gritted teeth.  
“Answer me!” Vanellope demanded, picking up a brick and throwing it down for good measure.  
Ralph snapped his head towards her and _glared at her._ “Go home, Vanellope,” he growled.  
“No!” Vanellope retorted. “You don’t even have a blanket! O-or shelter!”  
“I’m fine,” Ralph finally snapped, picking up Vanellope by the back of her jumper and yanking her off her high ground. Vanellope glitched out of his grip.  
“No, you aren’t! You don’t deserve this!”  
With a roar, Ralph slammed down his fists into the bricks beneath him.  
“But I do!”  
Vanellope’s face morphed into shock.  
Everyone seemed to hold their breath.  
The fight seemed to ebb out of Ralph.  
“I do,” he stated, and all of a sudden, he just sounded tired. “Because I’m the bad guy, ya know?”

Vanellope’s face hardened.  
“Who told you that?” she snapped.

Ralph frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? It’s kinda obvious, you know, because I-”  
“Yeah, you’re your game’s Bad Guy,” Vanellope said dismissively, finger-quoting those last two words. “But you aren’t a _bad guy!_ There’s no way in hell you deserve that!”  
Ralph was silent, before the hubbub of murmurs drew his attention to the crowd they’d gathered. He turned to the building and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Sorry for disturbing you all,” he shouted to the gathering. “Hope you get some sleep. We’re leaving now.”  
“I hope you don’t!” Vanellope shrieked, reaching for another brick. Ralph disarmed her, staring her down.  
“Goodnight, everybody!” he called, ushering the spunky child away.  
“Ralph! Let me at ‘em!” Vanellope cried, running past him.  
Ralph scooped her up, juggling her as Vanellope kept trying to glitch away like a twisting cat.

He refused to let her go, or even speak to her, until they were well out of _Fix-It Felix Jnr_. He was prepared to carry her straight back to _Sugar Rush_ , but as the fight left her, Vanellope tapped his shoulder lightly. “Let me down,” she stated. She sounded hollow.  
Ralph glanced at her, before gently placing her on her feet. “Look, Vanellope,” he started softly. “I’m sorry.”  
“You shouldn’t be apologising, big guy,” Vanellope replied, taking one of Ralph’s large fingers in her hand, and led him across the arcade. Ralph let himself be led, led over to _Sugar Rush._ He didn’t exactly want to go home right now. He was more than aware of the chastising he would most likely receive tomorrow. So again, Ralph shrugged. Vanellope studied his face. She did her best to smile, and tugged him along. “I know what it’s like, ya know?” she mumbled. “Living in the garbage.”  
Ralph snorted.  
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Does wonders for the self-esteem.”  
Vanellope laughed at that as they entered the plug to _Sugar Rush.  
_ C’mon,” she encouraged. “I’ve got an _entire palace._ I have like, a _bajillion_ spare rooms.”  
Ralph smiled, let himself smile. “Thanks, President,” he said, scooping Vanellope up again mostly because he had longer legs than her. “Now it’s getting late. You should get some sleep, your importance.”  
Vanellope stuck her nose in the air with false grandeur. “Take me to my chambers!” she declared with what might’ve been the worst impression of a British accent Ralph had heard in his life.  
Ralph did as asked, ferried her all the way to her chambers, and she was right, they were _chambers._ But she didn’t enter her room.  
“Oh! Oh! Wait, wait, wait! I got something for ya, Ralph!” Vanellope chirped, vibrating with excitement. Before he could inquire, she grabbed his fingers and began to pull him down the hall.  
“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” Ralph laughed, shaking his hand free.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!” she called, glitching behind him and pushing him along. Ralph just laughed at her, and continued on his way until she directed him to stop.

In front of them was a massive door. It wasn’t for her, wasn’t for any of the Candy Kingdom because none of them would _need_ a door that big. And in cursive chocolate writing on the door, was a name.  
_Ralph._  
Ralph stared at it, trying to piece together what it was, what it meant. “Well?” demanded Vanellope, hopping up and down. “Open it!”  
Ralph took the door handle gingerly, as if afraid he’d rip the whole door off entirely if he pulled too hard. Vanellope watched like a hawk as he pulled it open, and shoved him inside eagerly. Ralph let out a startled yelp as he stumbled.  
Vanellope hit the light switch, and clasped her hands in excited expectation.

Ralph’s jaw dropped at the sight. It was a bedroom, a _massive_ bedroom. Its scale was far too large for Vanellope, for any of the racers, for anyone in _Sugar Rush_.  
“I-is… is this for me?” he asked, and he wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t going to cry, he _wasn’t going to-  
_ “Yeah, it is,” Vanellope informed him, hopping up and sitting on top of a dresser so she could be level with him. “It was so you could stay somewhere… just in case.”  
Ralph looked at her. She looked young, she looked so young and acted so immature, but all of a sudden he realised quite how much she’d been through.  
She’d been tormented for years. Kicked out of her own game but unable to leave. Bullied mercilessly and left to rot out in the wilderness. She’d nearly seen the destruction of her own game. She’d nearly died.  
And she was still thinking about _him,_ after all that.  
Ralph swept her up in a hug without a thought. “Thank you, kid,” he said, genuinely close to tears. “Just, thank you.”  
“My pleasure,” Vanellope said, throwing her arms around his thick neck. “Just a reminder, ya know? That someone cares.”  
Ralph hugged her tighter, taking care not to crush her.  
“You’re my hero, Ralph,” Vanellope said, pulling back to look at him. “And I want you to remember that, okay?”  
Ralph smiled wetly, and reached into his shirt to pull out the cookie medal Vanellope made him. “I’m doing my best to keep it in mind,” he said softly. “Now, President Vanellope, I’m sure you have a big day tomorrow. Go to bed.”  
“ _Uuuuugh,”_ groaned Vanellope loudly, glitching out of his arms and into the doorway behind him. “Fiiii- _ne.”_  
Ralph laughed at her. “Goodnight, President Fartface,” he called.  
Vanellope grinned. With a salute, she replied, “And to you, Admiral Armpit!”  
And she glitched off.  
Ralph closed the door, and looked around the room. It was very fine, but sparsely decorated. Less for him to break. He hit the lights and fumbled across the room until he reached the bed, and the bedside table, and successfully switched the lamp on.  
He sat down on the bed and _oof._ He sunk into it with a bounce. It was so _soft._ Ralph poked at the mattress testily, and marvelled at it. Slowly, he lay back, letting out a contented sigh. Nothing poking into his shoulders, real blankets, no stump, no bricks, no cold wind. Maybe, _maybe_ , he could see why people liked beds.  
Now he was lying down it hit Ralph in a rush how tired he was. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow; didn’t want to deal with _that._ But he found himself drifting off easily, and was asleep before he knew it.


End file.
